Shattered
by Redhead-Lust
Summary: A young girl with a troubled life is taken by surprise when a letter is sent to her home, telling her she's a witch & she's been accepted into Hogwarts. Her terrifying past, love, & betrayal appears in her new life at Hogwarts. Can she handle it?


**A/N: This story starts off pretty much with no magic or Hogwarts. It's merely showing her life as a muggle, introducing how she will develop in the story. I'm very sorry if this story offends anyone, if it does, please stop reading. But this is my first story in awhile and I hope you guys enjoy it :).**

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I paced around the room several times before falling on my bed, letting my fingers trace around the throbbing bruises on my wrists. Closing my eyes, I wondered - one day, could I escape this mess? Escape the pain of being unloved, being emotionally scarred, physically hurt everyday, and having mild thoughts of suicide? That was a question left to be answered. I don't know what I did do deserve such hurt in one lifetime, but yet again, another question that is left to be answered.

No normal 11 year-old would say this, but I was so happy to leave this hell of a home to go to school. My mind is quite mature for people my age. Instead of being excited about summer holidays like a normal child, it scared me that they were approaching in a couple of days. Though, I still happily went to school, even if I didn't have friends. I still got out of bed extra early just to leave early before my alcoholic father woke up.

Today, he was up all night drinking.

I was about to leave before the wretched smell of stale beer came near my ear, but he grabbed my bruised wrists and pulled me back, "Allie, where ar' yew goin' so damn early in 'da mornin'..?" he slurred over his words and I gagged from the smell escaping his lips.

" It's called high school and I'm late for the bus. Goodbye." I ripped my arm away from him, wincing from the sting and swiftly darting towards the door, but he grabbed my long, black hair and threw my back against the nearby wall.

"Never..ever…talk to you father like..'dat again..yew hear meh!?" he hissed as he grabbed my ear and I could smell the yellow stains of nicotine across his fingertips; my eyes were blurring with tears when I nodded and just left the house.

The crisp, autumn air blew gently around me as I pulled my sweater around me tighter, waiting for the city bus to arrive while my tears dried up.

I let out a sigh of relief when I entered the bus and sat alone, like every other day; putting the white ear pieces of my iPod in my ears, letting the world around me drown out.

My fingers lingered on the many slashed cuts and scars across my left wrist, the empty pit feeling burrowing down in my chest, as always.

**------------------**

The only people that were in school this early were the typical IB students, the other loners, staff, athletes for practice, and me. I planted myself at an empty table in the library and opened up my sketch book.

Gradually, I continued the drawing of what my mother possibly looked like. Distracted by noises, I watched three of the IB students pass by, Hermie, Ronnie, and Harris, seeing their genuine smiles and laughter with each other; I swallowed hard to choke back the tears, soon letting out a shaky sigh.

Catching me off guard, a new student in his teens that I've never seen in my lifetime, walked up to me and gave me a tired 'good morning' smile, his chocolate brown eyes actually looking into mine as he put his bag on the seat across from me.

" Hey, I'm new here. I don't know anything… and I don't expect you to like me immediately, but just so you know, I'm Taylor. Nice to meet you." he said quietly and sat in a seat beside me. "I hope it's okay if we can be friends, y'know? You seem like a great girl."

I was in some state of shock, it was the most random thing. A new students a few days before summer? Was that normal?

I just nodded and returned the smile. Almost a whisper, I mentioned my name, "I'm Allison, y'know…just so you know.." he chuckled at my shyness.

After, there was a peaceful silence between us. I've never felt so warm inside before in my entire life.

A few days passed and I learned more about him and became good friends. Taylor was an all-around guy. He was friendly, popular, nice, genuine, modest, funny, and seriously doesn't care if you're a loser or not. But I feel like just another friend that was in the back of the line, waiting for the attention.

**------------------**

Lately, I was beaten even worse as time was passing. I had to put on more make up to cover up a mark from my father back-handing me because I refused to clean up his beer bottles. But it wasn't just that, the abuse was to an extent where he was about to shank me with broken beer bottles. Though the physical pain didn't hurt as much as the emotional and mental pain he puts me through.

"I put a dang roof over 'dat head of your's and yew dare dis..respect meh?!" My father bellowed as he threw a beer bottle near me, smashing against the wall behind.

I flinched away and just kept quiet, waiting for his ranting to be finished.

"Yew know what I should doo?! I sell you like a prostitute to ah men for t`ousands and get rid of yew, you're useless and dun make ah diff `rence here. Besides, yew look like one ash well, just like your mom.." he slurred and laughed, stumbling over to the phone.

I snapped right then.

"JUST STOP IT, OKAY?! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR STUPID, CARELESS BULLSHIT! YOU'RE JUST AS DAMN FUCKING USELESS AS ME BECAUSE YOU DO NOTHING BUT DRINK! I BET YOU MY MOM WOULD DO A HELL OF A BETTER JOB THEN YOU EVER DID!" I cried out loudly, my eyes blood-shot with stinging tears pouring out.

I immediately covered my mouth and regretted the words I said. Fear built up inside - I backed up against the nearest exit.

He huffed and glared at me, "…excuse ME?!" He exploded and ripped the phone out of the wall and threw it at me, hitting me right in the stomach. I threw up from the impact and the uncontrollable sobbing.

I didn't look him in the eye before I dashed into my room and locked my door, grabbing my school bag and filling it with as much as I would with my treasured and useful things.

"OPEN THA DOOR RIGHT NOW, ALLIE! I WILL KILL YOU IF YOU DUN OPEN IT!" he banged furiously against the door.

Panicked, I immediately pushed my dresser in front of the door and ran over to my window, rushing to rip it open. It was pouring rain outside, but I'd rather have pneumonia than be found murdered in my bathroom.

I scanned my messy room one last time and my eyes laid on the silver scalpel. Acting on impulse, I grabbed it and climbed out my window.

The bus was just passing by and I ran over to it, my mind blank and my insides cold in unbearable numbness while soaked from head to toe. Through the window as the bus departed, I saw my father from a fair distance stumbling towards the stop. I looked at him one last time before he was out of sight.

Stopping at a random stop after King's Cross, I walked past a large number of old, run-down building and found an empty park, settling myself on the swing while the rain came down harder.

The scalpel was clutched in my hand still and I was trembling as I held it near my scarred wrist, letting my emotions take over me and I broke out into tears, pressing the sharp point of the scalpel against my skin.

"I hate my damn life…" I murmured while I watched the rain wash away the blood. I immediately threw the scalpel away from me and leant my head against the chains of the swing, my mind going blank, eyes going hazy, light-headed and weak, and eyes slowly closing. If I were to die, I would take that moment and just die there.

I felt the warmth of someone's arms picking me up, like the way a husband picks up their wife right after their wedding. I felt a numbing pain through my body as someone changed my clothes - much to my embarrassment - but I felt warm as a blanket wrapped around my body and a familiar scent that made my heart race.

**------------------**

Hours later, my eyes fluttered open, the light almost blinding me. I let my eyes adjust to the new settings around me and I peered around the white room with a dull light. It smelled like a hospital as well.

My body was weak and my head throbbing incredibly. The pain of the bruises and wounds were enhanced even worse as the cool breeze hit it. I felt someone gently wrapping something around my left wrist and quickly hovering over me as my eyes opened.

"You're awake.." a quiet, teenage boy's voice cracked as he put his hand on my forehead, his touch making my face turn pink.

"…yeah…" I mumbled in a raspy voice. My eyes cleared to a sharp image of Taylor's face, which appeared in the place of the blurred silhouette of the unidentified, teenage boy earlier.

He gently sat me up and pushed my bangs out of my face, "Are you okay Allie…? You have a black eye…slit wrist…bruises everywhere…just…so many wounds.." he gulped and I looked at the wall, not in his eyes.

"I just fell. Don't worry.." I groaned, rubbing my eyes, not letting reality settle in. Maybe this was heaven…because I wouldn't mind heaven being in a hospital room with him.

But I felt him pinch me out of my daze and I moved away from him instantly. "S-sorry." he muttered as he sat on the edge of the bed.

A cute, chubby lady in a nurse suit walked in with a steaming bowl of soup and bread with milk on the side.

"Miss, sorry for the trouble.." I heard him whisper and she laughed and waved him away,

"Don't worry about it. This young lady is practically bones! So thin, so fragile. Eat up, eat up." she gently laid the tray on the table and she pushed it towards me.

I wish I was never submitted into the hospital. I was put through extensive therapy for my wrist cutting and my condition. Taylor kept convincing me it was for the better but I was just really angry and stubborn and never believed a word said.

I think I was gradually getting better until my father came into my hospital room one day. He was tipsy, but at least he wasn't wasted.

Though, he was ticked off to the max and he grabbed the food tray I had and through it against the wall, yelling at me in better English than his slurring gibberish.

"ALLISON, WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?! How could you leave like that and just leave me alone? Why would you also insult your own father and chose your mother who left you when you were little over me?! MAYBE YOU SHOULD'VE JUST DIED FROM PNEUMONIA OR CUTTING YOURSELF TO DEATH!" He raged on and Taylor ran in, his 5'10 frame hovering over my father's 5'5 stature.

"What's going on here..?" he looked around at the temper tantrum mess my father's rage caused.

I gave Taylor a worried look, "Just leave…my father and I have to settle things.." I told him, ignoring my father's degrading looks on Taylor.

"Why would I leave when he could abuse you again?!" he averted his eyes away from me and glared at my father, angry.

"Allie, you told this little shit?!" What an understatement my father said, but I ignored him and sat up, "Don't get involved…please.." I begged Taylor, he let out a breath and turned towards the door.

I let out a sigh of relief, but out of no where he turned and threw a punch at my father. I was shocked, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I cried, wobbling out of bed and pulling him back away from my vicious parent.

"Oh, you want to fight boy? You're going to up in heaven when this is done.." My father grabbed the metal stool and threw it in Taylor's direction, but I immediately pushed him out of the way.

There was a burst through the door and Taylor moved out of the way as the police walked in, hands on their guns, pointed towards my father.

I swallowed in fright, my eyes wide and full of stinging tears as my dad stared at me with remorse and guilt as they yelled out the words, " Marcus York, you are under arrest for…" I blocked out the words. I didn't want to know the numerous crimes he's committed.

My father surrendered, pulling his hands over his head while the police officers hand cuffed him, pulling him out of the hospital room as soon as possible.

For some reason, I found myself breaking down on the inside, the emotions pouring out of my body. Realization had hit me - I had no more family from that point on. The only one I had left was my father. I started sobbing so hard 'til I couldn't feel anything anymore; I just puked everything I ate at that moment. I didn't even remember why I cried or why I was even in the hospital. Even if the issue was somehow gone, I still wanted to die. What reason was there for me to live? My hope had drained away through my fingers and right before my eyes.

I needed to look harder. Taylor's chocolate brown eyes gazed into mine, the gentle smile warming my sheltered heart. Hope was right in my face, I just never took notice of it. He planted a soft, protective kiss upon my forehead like a brother would do and there was a feeling I've never felt before in my life. I felt like I belonged somewhere - some where in someone's heart where I'd be able to stay forever.

But that's when I realized that was just the beginning of my problems. I received a letter in the mail at my current living residence, which was with Taylor and his family: the Carrelli's. (Although they are Italian, they moved to England to start a new life when Taylor was born) and it had an iffy feeling to it.

I peeled off the mysterious wax seal and I pulled out the off-white paper that was folded to perfection. I slowly unfolded it, my heart thumping loudly. My eyes widened with every word inked into the paper.

'Hogwarts? Witchcraft and Wizardry? What the hell is this?' I thought.

"Little one, you finally got it." Taylor swung in through the doorframe, his head suddenly rested onto mine. I stared up at him with confusion, fright, and even more confusion.

What was the meaning of this? Me? A witch? No, that's not possible.

"I know you're confused right now, but I'll explain to you as time passes. The first thing I'll tell you though - your mother, she was a pureblood, meaning her mother was a witch and her father was a wizard. No one knew. Your father never did, and somehow your mother fell in love with him, thus creating you. Things gotten complicated before you were born which drove your father to drinking. Your dad is a muggle, meaning he does not come from a magical background like your mother. Therefore, you're a half-blood." I felt tears stinging my eyes as each word slowly flowed out of his mouth. This was too much happening at once. I'm apparently off to a new school in the middle of nowhere that is going to teach me magic.

I felt like my head was about to explode. This…wasn't normal; not that my life was even normal to begin with.

I was honest with myself before. I thought I was a pretty mature 11 year-old and I could handle situations in a mature matter. This, on the other hand… was not a 'situation' I would've expected to find myself in it.

Apparently I'm a witch...that's something new.

But you know, maybe…just _maybe_, I'll have a better life in this school. Just _maybe_.

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**A/N: I know this was a very intense chapter, but I need your guys reviews and tell me how I can improve and whatnot. Review, please and thank you. 3  
I hope you enjoyed the chapter :)  
And yes, Hermie, Ronnie, and Harris are like Hermione, Ron, and Harry, haha. Just felt like adding that out of boredom.  
IB is a term for kids in the gifted program at school (For extremely smart students).**

**Reviewwww ! :D**


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